The Laird Who Loved Me

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The Laird Who Loved Me Page 24

by Karen Hawkins


  “MacCready, set out wash water and my clothes. I wish to go down to breakfast as soon as possible.”

  “Right now? But it’s hardly nine o’clock. You never appear before ten.”

  “Then there will be more bacon for me.”

  “But, my lord, surely—”

  “Now.”

  MacCready’s lips tightened, but he said nothing more as he laid out Alexander’s clothes.

  Judging from the sounds coming from the breakfast room, more than one person was already there. Maybe Caitlyn? No, she was probably still in her room, recuperating from last night. He was exhausted this morning and she must be, as well. He could only hope she hadn’t awoken regretting their impulsive encounters.

  Heart heavy, he walked into the breakfast room and came to a complete halt.

  Looking delicate and fresh, her hair still damp from a bath, Caitlyn was resplendent in green brocade with rose trim. Alexander wasn’t sure of her expression, for he didn’t dare look at her for long. She sat between Lady Elizabeth and Lord Falkland, Miss Ogilvie sitting across from them, in deep conversation with the Earl of Caithness.

  There was no sign of Dervishton, which was a good thing. Alexander wasn’t through with him just yet.

  Alexander murmured a greeting to Falkland, but kept his eyes from Caitlyn, giving her time to compose herself. This had to be difficult for her, and he wished he’d caught her by herself so he could reassure her that he would protect them both. He’d discreetly reassure her with a compassionate, calming look for now.

  He filled his plate with whatever was closest on the buffet, took the seat opposite hers, and stole his first glance.

  To his surprise, she appeared neither pale nor wan, but amazingly calm and healthy, laughing at something Falkland said and eating with the enthusiasm of a sailor who’d been living off hardtack for the last six months.

  The sight disconcerted Alexander, and he frowned.

  Caitlyn sent him a grin, a decidedly devilish expression in her brown eyes. “Good morning, MacLean. I can see you have quite an appetite today.”

  “What?”

  “Your plate.”

  He looked down and realized he’d placed about fifteen sausages and nothing else on his plate. “Oh. Yes, well, I wished to keep Falkland there from stealing them all.”

  “I don’t even eat sausage!” Falkland protested. The young lord immediately began to discuss the various meats he did and did not eat, and Alexander wished he hadn’t mentioned sausage at all.

  The meal passed with interminable slowness, the women talking excitedly about the masquerade that was planned for the evening’s amusement. While Falkland and Caithness agreed with every comment put to them.

  He was relieved when Caitlyn finally excused herself to change into a walking gown so she could accompany Miss Ogilvie for a stroll about the lake.

  Alexander waited a moment, then excused himself and went after her. He caught her on the stairwell. “Caitlyn!”

  She turned to face him, a spontaneous smile curving her mouth. “Yes?”

  She is genuinely glad to see me. His heart leaped at the thought and he smiled back at her, savoring the warmth of her welcome.

  Then he caught himself. What in hell am I doing? She’s not for me.

  As his smile dimmed, so did hers, a look of uncertainty in her face. “Did you … did you wish to speak to me?”

  He steeled himself. “Yes. I . . . I . . . I . . .” Good God, why had he chased her out here into the hallway? He’d wanted to speak to her, but he didn’t have a specific topic. He’d just . . . wanted to see her.

  The realization struck him like a hammer. Am I beginning to actually care for her? That’s impossible! I’ve only known her a few months, and most of those I was simply trying to win my way into her bed.

  He rubbed his neck, suddenly weary. What was he doing?

  She smiled as if sensing his uncertainty. “Actually, I’m glad you caught up with me. I want you to know that I think last night was”—her cheeks flushed but she continued resolutely—“it was very nice.”

  Nice? Hell, it’d been a lot of things, but nice wasn’t one of them. It had been wonderful, fantastic . . . his balls still hummed from it. It had also made his life unbearably complicated. “I’m sorry about the whole thing.”

  “Sorry?” she said in an odd voice. “You’re sorry?”

  He had to move away from this dangerous precipice that his heart was perched on. If he didn’t, there would be nothing but pain for them both. “Caitlyn, I—”

  “There is nothing to be sorry about. I made the decision to enjoy your company, and I did. I certainly don’t expect you to apologize or offer marriage or—”

  “That’s good,” he snapped. “Because I don’t plan on marrying anyone, ever.”

  She flushed, her mouth tightening. “No, of course not. Although some people might see such intimacy as the sign of more than mere friendship.” Her chin was high, her gaze locked with his. “I’m talking about love, MacLean, in case you missed it. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

  He was a welter of confusing sentiments, but he refused to examine which. “I can’t offer you either love or marriage, so it’s best we keep them off the table.”

  She gave a brittle laugh. “You’re so focused on those blasted wagers.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose so.” Her eyes glistened as if she were on the brink of tears. “Fine, MacLean. We’ll keep this relationship focused on our wagers. That, and nothing more.”

  “Good.”

  She turned and ran the rest of the way up the stairs, leaving him alone and feeling oddly bereft. What in hell was wrong with him?

  He was definitely in lust, and perhaps deeply in like, for she was an extraordinary woman. But was he in love? Was it too late?

  It couldn’t be; he wouldn’t allow it.

  Irritated at himself, he returned to his room and rang for MacCready, deciding to spend the rest of the day on his horse. At least it wouldn’t befuddle him and leave him feeling as if, in some indefinable way, he was lacking.

  The carriage rumbled up the narrow road, swaying over the uneven surface.

  Muiren stuck her head out the carriage window and peered up at the house perched on the cliff overhead. “Who’d have thought Old Woman Nora would live like a queen in such a grand house?”

  Caitlyn smiled. “Mam’s done well for herself, considering she had nothing at one time.”

  “Married into money, did she?”

  “Yes, although grandfather used to say he was the one who got the bigger prize. She’s dreadfully spoiled. Grandfather was crazy about her and could never tell her no.”

  “She’s a strong woman, I’ll tell ye that.”

  “So she is.” Caitlyn was glad she’d inherited some of that same strength. But though she could hold her own in most areas, she was woefully weak where Alexander MacLean was concerned.

  “Ye think yer mam can help ye with the last challenge?”

  “She has to. I’m at a loss as to how to complete it without losing my reputation.”

  Muiren turned red. “I canno’ believe MacLean would ask ye to do such a thing! He’s no’ much of a gentleman to ask ye to bathe naked in the garden fountain. I dinna care if he stole the idea from a famous myth or no’!”

  “He’s not a gentleman at all.” Which was no surprise, as he’d told her that on their first meeting. What had been a surprise was the discovery that she was no lady. She’d always had her suspicions. Her sister Triona was always polite, always proper and gracious. Caitlyn had spent her entire life trying to live up to that standard and failing miserably, but never had she rushed so headlong into such “nonladylike” behavior as with MacLean.

  And while she enjoyed their mutual passion immensely, something had changed. Whether with her or him, she didn’t know, but it left her feeling bereft and sad. She’d hardly eaten anything since breakfast. Surely Mam would know how to cure suc
h an illness?

  The carriage climbed the final steep curve and turned onto a beautifully groomed drive that lead up to a large, square stone manor, the roof covered in deep gray slate tiles, the walls of the darkest gray river rock, the mullioned windows glistening in the sun.

  “Yer mam dinna dress as if she lives here.”

  “I know. It’s the bane of her servants’ lives, too.”

  The carriage pulled to a halt just as the front door opened and an elderly woman wrapped in a shapeless, gray pelisse stepped onto the stoop, a large covered basket over her arm. She stopped when she saw the carriage, and her weathered face broke into a grin when Caitlyn leaned out the window and yelled, “Mam!”

  Too impatient to wait for the footman, Caitlyn opened the carriage door, hopped out, ran to her grandmother, and was instantly enveloped in a hard hug. As thin as Mam was, she was amazingly strong.

  “Och, me girl! What are ye doin’ here?”

  “I came for some advice.”

  “Ye did, did ye?” Mam couldn’t have looked more pleased. “Ye’d best come in, then.”

  Caitlyn eyed Mam’s basket. “Were you off on an errand?”

  “Aye, but it can wait. ’Tis just some jellies and such fer the Roberts and their new babies. She had twins, she did. I suggested she call them Caitriona and Caitlyn like ye and yer sister, but she’d none o’ it—probably because they were boys.”

  Caitlyn laughed. “I daresay that was it.”

  Muiren, who’d just arrived carrying a basket of her own, smiled at Mam and bobbed a curtsy. “How do ye do?”

  Mam eyed the basket with interest. “What’s that?”

  Muiren flipped back the cover. “Yer granddaughter said we couldna come without some sweets fer ye. There’s nut bread and marmalade, scones and fresh-churned butter and—”

  “Then why are we waitin’ out here! Open the door and someone take this basket to me breakfast room!” Mam turned and headed back into the house, leaving Caitlyn and Muiren to follow.

  Muiren was escorted by the housekeeper to the kitchens, while the very proper butler promised Mam that he’d ensure the delicacies in the basket were brought to the breakfast room with all due haste.

  Mam then took Caitlyn by the arm and drew her into the small, cozy, well-appointed room and shut the door behind them. “All right, lass, tell me why ye’ve come to see me in such a dither.”

  “I’m not in a dither.”

  Mam lifted her brows.

  “Well … perhaps a little dither.” Caitlyn sighed and followed Mam to a small table before the fireplace. As she took her chair, Caitlyn said, “I’m sorry I haven’t written as often as I should.”

  “Och, ye’re like me and no’ have the time to write a letter. The one ye wrote me when yer sister eloped with Lord Hugh was a muddle to decipher.”

  “I was upset.”

  “I could tell. And ye’re upset now. What’s brought ye to me, lass?”

  “I’m in a quandary about Alexander MacLean.”

  Mam’s eyes widened. “Alexander MacLean? I thought ye were enjoyin’ yerself at a house party at Balloch Castle?”

  “I am, but …” Caitlyn fidgeted with her gloves. “Mam, MacLean is at the house party, too.”

  “Ah! Ye didn’t mention that in yer letter.”

  “No. I should have, but it didn’t seem that important at first, and then—” Caitlyn searched for the words. Then it became too important to mention in such a casual way.

  “Then what?” Mam said impatiently. “Will ye just blurt it out? I’m an old woman and canna take such suspense!”

  Caitlyn had to smile. “You’ll outlive us all, Mam.”

  “I hope not. Now tell me what’s got ye so upset.”

  “When MacLean and I knew one another in London, we were … I suppose you’d call it flirting.”

  “I would, would I?”

  “Yes.”

  “So ye flirted whilst in London and then met again by accident at Balloch Castle?”

  “It was no accidental meeting. MacLean admitted he was responsible for my being there. He and the duchess used to be—” Caitlyn couldn’t get the words past her lips.

  Mam nodded. “I’d heard tha’, but it ended months ago. He’s no’ the sort o’ man to linger long wit’ a woman like her. Or any other woman for tha’ matter.”

  Caitlyn winced. “You know the duchess?”

  “Aye, I do,” Mam said in a glum voice. “Better than she’d like. She once worked in one o’ yer grandpapa’s mills.”

  “Worked in a mill? That can’t be the same woman!”

  Mam lifted her brows.

  “Goodness.” Caitlyn shook her head. “I would never have believed that.”

  “Well, ye can, fer ’tis true. She dinna want anyone to know about it, but a few of us are old enou’ to remember it very well.” Mam tapped her fingers on the table before her and said in a thoughtful voice, “So MacLean used his connection with the duchess to get ye to visit. Did he tell ye why?”

  “For revenge. He planned on ruining me for what happened with Triona and Lord Hugh.”

  “But they’re happy as can be! I jus’ saw them yesterday, in fact.”

  “I pointed that out, but he was still angry. Although there was no full-blown scandal, people talked, and since Hugh and Triona had left for Scotland, and I’d been sent back to Wythburn, he was left in London to take the brunt of it.”

  “Och, so his pride was hurt.”

  “Exactly. When I arrived at the castle and realized what he’d planned, I made a deal with him. We’re to complete three tasks each, and the first one to fail, loses. If I win, he’s to forget the incident and plan no more revenge, and he has to propose to me in front of every member of the house party. I shall refuse him, of course.” At one time, just saying that had made Caitlyn grin. Now, for some reason, she took no satisfaction whatsoever in the thought. In fact, it made her heart ache.

  Mam looked impressed. “How came he to agree to that?”

  “He set conditions for me if I lost.”

  Mam’s brow rose. “Such as?”

  Caitlyn’s cheeks colored. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Humph. I see how it is.”

  Caitlyn wisely held her tongue.

  “So, lassie, how can I help ye out of this mess?”

  “We’ve based the tasks on the ancient myth of Olwen, and my final task is … difficult. Do you remember when Olwen bathed naked in the fountain to distract the enemies?”

  Mam stiffened. “That arse didn’t ask that o’ ye!”

  “I’m afraid he did. And I told him he had to wear a gown. In public.”

  “Ye dinna! After knowin’ how much his pride means to him—”

  The door opened and the butler came in, bearing a tray of delicacies from Muiren’s basket and a pot of gently steaming tea. Mam waited impatiently for the butler to set up the tea, then shooed him off, barely waiting for the door to close before she turned to Caitlyn. “Ye’re playin’ wit’ fire, lass, but I think ye know tha’.”

  “I do, but … Mam, I don’t know what it is, but I can’t help myself! Whenever he’s around, I want to goad him and make him react. I can’t seem to stop.”

  Mam sighed. “Ye’ve got it bad, don’t ye, lassie?”

  Caitlyn’s heart squeezed and a tear welled.

  “Och, dinna cry.” A frothy lace handkerchief appeared and Mam pressed it into Caitlyn’s hand. “We’ll find an answer fer ye.” Mam poured them some tea and arranged some cakes on two plates, her brow furrowed as she thought. “Tell me about these other wagers, how they played out.”

  Caitlyn did so, Mam nodding thoughtfully as she listened. Afterward they sat in silence, sipping their tea.

  Mam sighed. “What to do, what to do … Ye are to swim naked afore him, but if ye’re caught, then ye’ll be ruined fer certain—and yer family with ye.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Hmm. What ye need to do, then, is to control the situation. Control Ma
cLean.”

  “Control MacLean? How on earth—”

  “Och, let me worry about the details; I think I know just what ye need.” Mam’s gaze sharpened. “Whilst I can help ye with yer wager, I canno’ assist ye wit’ the true problem here. Ye know what tha’ is, don’t ye, lass?”

  Caitlyn quietly placed her teacup back on its dish. “Yes. I love him.” Saying it out loud wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought it would be.

  Mam nodded. “How does he feel about you?”

  “He sees me only as a challenge. I know he doesn’t love me.”

  “Ye’re certain of this?”

  “I am. I asked him this morning, and he—” Caitlyn tried hard to keep the tears at bay; her throat was so tight she couldn’t swallow. She loved him so much, but all he could offer was a brief physical relationship. Sharing their passion had only made matters worse. Every time they were together, in bed or out, her feelings for him deepened. “I can’t settle for a half of a relationship, and that’s all he has to offer.”

  Mam’s blue eyes darkened in concern. “Och, lassie. Ye look so sad.”

  She was sad. Every bone in her body seemed weighted, her chest ached, and her eyes stung. But she wasn’t the sort of woman to give in. She had a few more days before she had to leave Balloch Castle, and she’d make certain those days counted.

  She blinked back the tears that threatened, lifted her chin, and looked her grandmother in the eye. “So you have an idea of how I may fulfill my task? I want to leave Balloch Castle as a winner.”

  Mam grinned and rose to rummage through a small desk in one corner of the room. “Here ’tis. This will solve yer problems.” She placed something in Caitlyn’s hands.

  Caitlyn blinked at the tiny vial closed with a whittled cork. “But—”

  “Four drops o’ this in his drink, and he’ll no’ be able to move fer two, perhaps three hours. Ye can have yer swim in the fountain in full view o’ him, and he’ll no’ be able to raise a call and cause yer ruin.” Mam chuckled. “He might no’ even be able t’ blink.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Not wit’ four drops. Not even wit’ eight. If ye gave him twelve or more, I might worry, but there’s no’ that much in tha’ bottle.”

 

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